But but but: this blog is still indeed—at least superficially—about beauty: the superficial beauty of appearances. The quest for Ginger beautification is an exemplum thereof. It’s not Just Yet Another Beauty Blog All About Me: it’s a sceptical, anarcha-feminist, anti-consumerist blog about beauty, superficiality, and appearances in general and their broader implications. Those implications including, of course, the abovementioned Viagra business and its OTT extension into “me”-pseudoculture and disposable culture, grotesque over-consumption, macho reckless destruction, and other gratuitous wantonness and waste.

And you thought what you just read was rambling rantings and ravings? LOL. Welcome to Folly-praising.

On which subject:

Further “what” and a “why”: My dream home, Scotland’s finest folly, the Pineapple, Dunmore. Availabe to rent (sleeps 4) from around £120-200 per night. Which is bargainaceously cheaper than many a British 3-star hotel of the shitty bland corporate chain variety. Why?What is wrong with the world, I ask you?

WHY?

Why did I bother writing this stuff down in the first place? Well, being of an allergicky disposition, I’d been keeping notes for years of what I’d used on my skin, tried and tested, ingredients and products that worked/didn’t work/points between. I realised that the MUA notepad or anything similarly online and updateable was a great idea, for keeping track of these things, and separating out

stuff currently being used

stuff that’s been used and worked out OK

stuff in experimental / testing stages

stuff to be tried out next, or otherwise being lemminged-after

stuff that didn’t work, and should therefore NOT under any circumstances be accidentally contemplated again or allowed to sneak its way into 4. let alone 3. above.

So: entirely selfish and self-protective, so I didn’t end up repeating past errors / failed experiments. Also, I’m not always that good at remembering what I use, nor what I put into a bottle of oil, especially once my nice hand-written label falls off. Which it inevitably does. I could claim this here page (and indeed the rest of ye blogge) is also in 21st-century hommage to the quotation below, but that would be exhibiting grand delusions of self-love; albeit tempered with self-deprecation, pastiche, and parody. Then again, this is a morosophical blog so it wouldn’t be entirely inappropriate. Lady Folly would approve. So b***er it all, epigraphical quotation here we go: